The salty smell of the ocean permeated the air.
Mary stared at the vast body of water in awe. She had never been so close to the ocean. In fact, this was the farthest she had ever been from the monastery.

Her chin-length hair blew in the icy wind. Because her hair had gotten burnt in the fire, Maria had offered to cut it a few days prior, right before they left.

'If Theresa knew what happened to my hair... she would have freaked out.' Mary thought to herself.

Even though it was damaged, the young girl wasn't too sad about her thick hair. After all, she knew it would quickly grow back, anyway. Her short hair was the least of her problems.

Mary leaned on the port railing, looking across the sea. Despite being relatively small (although much bigger than Mary's hometown), the coastal city of St. Andrews was all but desolate. Bustling with life, it many things Mary had never seen or heard of before. But one specific thing stood out the most.
The ocean.

Mary had only ever read about the ocean in books, and nothing prepared her for the real thing. It was better than the descriptions. Better than the drawings.
The roaring waves crashed into the rocky shore— spraying the young girl's covered legs. It was an odd sensation, because of the sea foam, but Mary didn't dislike it. No, not one bit.

She heard Maria's footsteps walking towards her to the railing. Looking back at the older woman, she saw Maria put her hands on her hips.

"The ocean— it's amazing, isn't it? I never get sick looking at it." The platinum-haired woman looked at Mary. "You'll get to see even cooler sights while you're with me."

Mary wasn't sure what could be cooler than the ocean, but she trusted Maria's words.

Suddenly, she heard a voice in the distance. She recognized it as the voice belonging to Georges— someone who also worked for the Black Order. Maria had called him a "finder."

"I'm back, Lady Maria." He said.

Maria clapped her hands together.

"Great! And you brought Ur-Canpy!" She smiled and walked over to the brown-haired man.

Mary's eyes practically popped out of her face. She couldn't believe what she was looking at. Next to Georges was a flying black ball with wings. It even had a mouth.

Maria, noticing Mary's shocked stare, chuckled.

"You've never seen a golem before, have you?" She asked, raising her left eyebrow.

Mary shook her head rapidly. She had never seen a golem— in fact, she's never even heard of them!
The black ball, who Maria had called 'Ur-Canpy', flew over to the young girl and head-butted her.

"Ah!" Mary exclaimed, surprised. She put her hand on her forehead.

Maria grinned.

"Don't mind him, it's just his way of saying hello."

Mary's eyes drifted towards the golem. Although she had thought Ur-Canpy was weird-looking at first, on a second look, the young girl thought he was kind of cute... albeit in an odd way.

"It's... nice to meet you, Ur-Canpy," Mary said.

The golem gave the young girl a toothy smile, ecstatic. She smiled awkwardly in return.

"Golems can be used for many purposes." Maria started walking towards Mary. "The Black Order uses them as communication devices."

The tall woman leaned against the railing, her back against the metal. Her platinum hair flew in the wind; the gleam of her glasses covered her eyes.

"Ur-Canpy here is a special case. I made him with the help of magic." She gestures towards the golem, who made his way towards her, ultimately clinging onto her cheek in an affectionate manner.

"Magic..." Mary fell deep into thought.

'That must've been how she stopped Therion.' She thought.

The young girl pondered what else magic could do.
Georges cleared his throat, bringing her out of her thoughts. He looked at Maria.

"Lady Campbell told me to send her regards and that you're welcome to visit anytime." He said.

"Lady Campbell?" Mary titled her head.

"A friend of mine," Maria replied.

Mary knew she had heard that name before... but couldn't figure out where. She pouted in frustration. She felt like her memory was getting worse.

Maria, noticing the young girl's face, ruffled her hair.

"Don't think about it too much." She said. "But thank you, Georges."

The brown-haired man nodded.

"We should get going." He said.

But as they left the port, Mary felt a chill go down her spine. A familiar smell permeated the air. One of death and destruction. She froze.

It was the smell of Akuma.